Advent
by Ferrhian
Summary: Sacrifices are made for changes to happen. For better, or for worse.


**Disclaimer:** The Last Remnant isn't mine. If it was, you would have gotten a sequel by now.

* * *

It had only been seven months, and yet it felt like a year had already passed. No matter the length of time that had swept by, the image of that event would remain ever so vivid.

The moment when soft green glowed over his figure and he ran to the Conqueror… when he made that decision – a decision no one else could make – that became unforgettable to not only them, but to every being that witnessed the Remnants shatter into a million fragments, and when _he_ faded from existence in a flash. He could still recall how he cried out his sorrows – both he and Irina – to the man who disappeared... for he was a Remnant too.

No matter what, he would not blame Rush for making that choice. Even if he would have protested, Rush would never change his mind. His stubborn will and his selflessness are traits that he carried with him from the very beginning to the very end, hence why all hail him as a hero. Even the God Emperor himself did not dare to brand him as a traitor. Possibly because Rush was not tied to any nation, possibly because he knew of the outcry such an accusation would receive.

At that time… when they departed from Elysion, when the events were still fresh in his mind, David suddenly heard that _familiar_ voice, speaking as softly as the morning breeze.

It told him... that everything will be alright, and even if it will take time, everyone will realize that it is for the best. Therefore he doesn't have to worry, he doesn't need to grieve, and he must move on to find joy in the unknown future.

It gave him comfort… _at first_. Because it's easier said than done.

Without a doubt, he _will_ learn to live without the Remnants' existence, and he will encourage his people and his fellow rulers to do the same. After all, it was not only the Remnants' power that allowed them to govern and unite the people of their nations. The Remnants do _not_ define how great a leader is, or how strong the people are. Rush even told him of a humble qsiti in Baaluk who thought the same. But he was right, and it may take time, but they will find out a way.

Even then, while he does not wallow in the grief, it continues to _linger_ like a ghost. It's not as if it is easy to forget the fact he lost a dear friend, and the first he had in a long, long while. His Generals couldn't count; they were already like family to him.

And with no doubt, he was not alone in finding a friend in Rush. Over the time since they met, Rush had made numerous friends from all kinds of places, from all kinds of backgrounds. They too, could not mourn the loss of a friend and forget it so easily.

* * *

One of the rare days when he had little to do.

There was no meeting he had to attend, and there was only little paperwork to complete. As efficient and punctual as he was, the event when he would be a wreck from his job as the Marquis almost never happened. Such an instance only occurred during the few days after he took over his late father.

Taking a stroll around the gardens would be a great way to pass time, yet he decided against it and remained seated on his throne, watching the clouds from afar sway and change shapes.

David immediately realized that the day would pass very slowly, and as such, he suddenly recalled the times when he could still see the Valeria Heart from where he is sitting, and he sighed in nostalgia. The Remnants may have been a danger to countless beings, but the sights of them were undoubtedly something to be missed. He could recall the Umbermarici floating above Celapeleis, the Blue Elf in Melphina, and the Gae Bolg…

His lips released another deep exhale, and he shook the thoughts away. One thought leads to another, and he did not want it to end with him remembering his grief. No one would want that… especially not Rush.

With that in mind, David finally relented and decided to head for the gardens.

* * *

It was time for dinner. All gathered on a table, their meals already served on their plates. David watched momentarily, watching Blocter munch almost messily on the various foods cooked from land insecta, and Torgal berating him yet again for it. He and Emmy almost chuckled; whether at war or at home, Blocter has a hard time reining in his large appetite.

He watched them all eat, content with what they have for tonight. Yet he did not eat his own share, not due to a lack of hunger, but for he was lost in thought once more. Before he could even allow himself, he had already drifted off, back to a time when he saw one... _two_ others joining them for a meal. Rush would also eat to his heart's content, but he had enough courtesy to mind the basic table manners. Irina had far less trouble, and would even try to lecture her brother on how to eat more properly.

Ah, but how nice it was to have more at the table. No matter what, he _always_ enjoyed the extra company.

From joy to pain, the transition of his memories caused him to scowl as he rubbed his temple. Such moments do not occur on a daily basis, only occasionally, sometimes even rarely. And yet when they do occur, it can be a _bother_.

He had lost before. He had grieved, and he had lived on. Was he not strong enough to handle another?

Not wanting any of his Generals to take notice of his shift in mood, he began taking a few bites, keeping watch of how he would hold his knife and fork. The crab meat tasted spectacular, and he focused on the taste, keeping his head free of any thoughts that would bring him back to the past.

Those memories did not bring weakness from him, definitely not. He dared not to be melodramatic from the losses he has suffered. While it had been pestering him for more than half a year, he is certain that it was not from survivor's guilt. He had no guilt, no resentment. No one was at fault, and Rush did what had to be done.

Grief... is all there is to it. But sadly, like rain, it simply cannot be wished away.

 _However_.

As it went with Emma, Rush would not want him to always remember him for his death, but for how he lived.

* * *

"Wow, it's been half a year and Athlum's still the same!" a young boy noted, but made sure to keep his voice as low as possible. There were still guards keeping watch around the gate – good thing he was still at a distance where he wouldn't be spotted.

Tugging his hood further till half his face was obscured, he activated stealth magic and with quick feet, avoided the guards' line of sight, leaving them none the wiser. At this stunt, he couldn't help but chuckle.

" _One_ _man outwitting Athlum's finest, what would_ he _say?_ "

It was evening. Even if he could sneak his way into the palace, it was not the most appropriate time to tell them of his presence. Not just yet. He was always known to be impatient, and for his tendency to jump the gun, but he knew he can't be too hasty this time. The ideal place to stay for now would be the inn. Sure, the Warrior's Honor may still be open, but there is no way they would let a child inside. Granted, he did not look as if he recently grew from his stages of infancy, yet he would not pass as an _adult_.

Be that as it may, he can't alert _everyone_ … if needed be, only a select few must know for now, at least before _they_ catch wind of his arrival.

Keeping his spell intact, he headed for the inn and only deactivated it then and there. From this height, he gained a new perspective of Athlum, and all the buildings towered over him, reliving him of memories of the past when he was an actual child, roaming the streets of Elysion. It was vague and brief, but it was still there.

At least, even as inconvenient his current appearance is for him, he was still tall enough to reach the knob without having to jump. And no second was wasted for him to open it.

He expected a blinding flash of light, but luckily, the only things illuminating the interior were two oil lamps that softly bathed the room in orange and yellow, accentuating the wooden walls and furniture. Aside from that, the child took notice of a young man, most likely of his own age – his _actual_ age – cleaning the desk. He could also tell that the latter was tired, as his expression was weary, his eyes narrowing and opening, and his hair slightly messy at the ends.

He didn't seem to be noticed, so he walked closer until he was close enough that the other would surely see him now. As such, the brunette almost jumped in surprise at the cloaked figure's presence, and then he looked at the door, which was left open. With his priorities slightly skewed, he ran to the door and closed it shut, before turning to the stranger who may or may not be a thief.

Yet they remained standing there, seemingly holding no intent to rob him or anything malicious.

"Umm… what are you doing here, kid... _sir_?" The figure was a fair couple of inches smaller than him, but appearances can be deceiving.

"I... uhh..." For all his excitement in returning, he never once thought on how to answer that question. He imagined it going a lot easier in his head, but then again... "I want to stay here for the night. It's cold and I'm tired," he went with, even though the answer is only but a _half-truth_.

"Do you have anyone else with you?" the young man asked, partially out of concern. His reply was a negative. "You don't have any parents?" From the sound of his voice, the stranger seemed to be of a younger age, or possibly the same age as him, but it was all the more reason for him to worry that the other had no other company.

"My parents are... _somewhere else_. Like I said, for now I just want to rest." And reaching for a pocket beneath his hooded cloak, he held out a small pouch of coins. "This should be enough, yeah?"

"Yes... it is," was the man's befuddled reply, confused on why he is at a loss of words with a stranger, when this is a job he does on a daily basis. Yet there was something about said stranger that caused him to act in such a tense manner. "You must have come a long way. Do you need anything to drink?"

Appreciative of his concern, the stranger answered, "Water would be nice."

Directing him to a chair, he walked away to get said refreshments, pouring another for himself as he started to feel parched as well. He returned, and both took sips from their respective glasses.

"By the way, um..." His tone wandered off, making it clear that he is asking for the innkeeper's name.

"It's Valeryan."

"Valeryan... Seems to me your parents named you after the Remnant, right?" he surmised, with a light shrug of his shoulders.

"More or less." The brunette wondered why his _name_ became the topic of a conversation. Or perhaps the stranger decided to start with such a topic to break the ice? But he still cannot put a finger on why he feels almost... _honored_ , around him, even if it would be more rational to still hold some level of fear.

"Anyways, I don't know exactly what changed around here, but once I'm done snoozing, is there any way I can get to the palace?"

From the _abrupt_ question, the brown-haired youth choked on both his share of water and his own spit, coughing rather violently as a result. He was struggling to calm his lungs and his throat, and yet it got even worse, his voice beginning to wheeze. But then a hand extended out to him, the fingers alight with a soft glow. In an second, he no longer felt the discomfort, and though he was no user of such spells, he immediately knew what the other just conjured.

"Healing magic?" He watched the stranger's head nod. "Oh, my thanks. But, how did you— No... what business do you want with Lord David?" His use of magic did not matter; anyone of any race could learn the art with enough training. Yet his _identity_ remained a mystery. Without a doubt, this man could _not_ be a lord of any of the other nations. But he did not seem to be a slaver, or a person who has arrived to cause trouble.

At first, he received a sigh. But the stranger knew that in the end, he could not go through the night without at least one person knowing. He did expect things to go a lot smoother, but it had already come to this. He simply hoped that Valeryan would be able to take it well, or as calmly as he can. That, and keep his lips sealed for a day.

"I guess _this_ might answer part of your question." And right on cue, he removed his hood, unveiling the face hidden beneath.

Black, spiky hair and silver eyes, the face alone was more than enough to be recognized by the innkeeper.

Anyone in Athlum would know who this person was. After all he had done for the world, such an appearance would be etched in their memories, no matter where they hail from. One would be a fool to mistake him for somebody else.

"Sir Rush... Sykes?"

The latter frowned, "Yeah, it's me, but none of that 'Sir Rush'. Rush is fine." His humble self wouldn't allow him to be comfortable with anyone referring to him in that manner.

"But you're—"

"Dead?" Rush finished, his lips forming a wry smile. He may not regret what happened, but it isn't easy to speak of. "Yeah, I _died_. But... here I am."

"How?!" At this point, Valeryan was about to stammer in his words, even though he made sure that his voice would not be _too_ _loud_.

"Well that..." Rush knew very well why he came here, why he resurrected, in a sense. But the reason was not something he could easily explain or elaborate, and preferably, he would like to not explain it one time too many. "I can't tell you that, not until I tell _them_." Though he meant well, the tone of his voice, while remaining friendly, made it perfectly clear that he isn't willing to say anymore about the subject.

While Valeryan wanted to know, he knew better than to pry. While he did not ask any more questions, a part of him became filled with worry. If he was not willing to discuss it so easily, then it was of a serious matter.

But is it of one so grave that Athlum is in turmoil once again?

As his thoughts soon grew out of control, he brought himself back to reality when he remembered that he had yet to bring Rush to a room.

"Oh right... _Rush_ ," he called, struggling to omit the formalities, "Please follow me. I'll lead you to your room."

Rush followed Valeryan as the latter prepared another oil lamp before walking down the halls, searching for a room that has not been occupied yet. As he followed the brunette from behind, he sighed in relief. No other person came out of their rooms, or seemed to be making any noise behind the doors, making it safe to say that they were all out like a light when he revealed his identity. A stroke of luck, and he knew he ought to hold on to it, for it not be the same in the following day.

"Here we are," Valeryan muttered, snapping Rush out of his thoughts as he opened the door and showed Rush the interior.

A bed clearly made for one rested against the wall, a wooden desk on another side, a bookcase hanging above the desk, and a window at the center. Simple, but it was more than enough for him, and at the very least, he couldn't sense any dust lingering about on the furniture.

"Oh, by the way," Rush spoke as an afterthought after taking a step inside. "It would really help me if you didn't tell anyone else about me. And I mean _anyone_."

Valeryan swallowed thickly at what Rush asked of him, for even though he understands why such a request was made, it almost had him go in a nervous fit to realize that he is essentially keeping a secret. For a day at least, for more than one day at most.

He nodded with sincerity in spite of the thoughts swirling in his head once again. Rush smiled, watching the innkeeper leave in silence before he headed for the bed, ready to sleep the rest of night away.

Tomorrow could not come any sooner.

* * *

Strangely enough, when the next day passed, it felt like a great burden was washed off his chest. In the emotional sense, David felt a lot better. He cannot tell why, but it certainly cannot be from a dream, for the night went by for him without one.

It did not feel as if the pain decided to go away— it seemed _appeased_ , on the other hand. Almost as if... Rush was here, as if he has returned.

But the incredulity of that reasoning almost made him laugh bitterly, such a thing couldn't happen. No, the dead cannot come back to life, and that fact rings with a harsher truth now that all the Remnants are gone. He had heard of a few capable of performing such a miracle, but any ray of hope was now gone.

Nothing of Rush even remained - what could David even bring back?

Yet such thoughts no longer troubled him like they would. Even as his mind was weighed by thoughts of loss and death, he was not in the least bit emotionally affected. Confusing, yet he wouldn't see this as an inconvenience.

Perhaps yesterday was simply that unpleasant— how great would it be if that was all but a nightmare.

Such a thought may have tempted fate, however, when he heard hurried footsteps from clanking combat boots. He quickly turned to the direction where the sound echoed, and just as immediately, Emmy appeared in his presence, pausing immediately to give a salute.

"What's the matter?" David asked, seeing the urgency in her eyes. But her answer took him by surprise.

An army of beasts are already advancing towards Athlum, and somehow they made it past the plains without being detected. It left them with _little tim_ e to prepare, and while alarmed, he dared not panic, immediately ordering Emmy to call the other Generals. They would gather all the soldiers and head for the gates to make their stand against them. One man might make a huge difference in battle, therefore no one must be left behind. It did not matter right now if Celapeleis did not notice; they were no longer under its rule. How they arrived unnoticed would have to be for later.

The enemies were already _too_ _close_ , and if they fall, so will Athlum. He wouldn't let that happen, not while he can still breathe.

* * *

Valeryan quietly walked down the halls once more, but at a much slower pace, fearing that someone might open the door abruptly, and hit his face by accident. The inn was not large, to say the least, but the guests' comforts are of utmost priority, therefore the hall was narrower in favor of the rooms around it.

He couldn't call out Rush's name; he promised that he would not let anyone else know. While remembering his words, he would quietly greet anyone who walked out of their rooms, eager to have breakfast, which his mother is in charge of.

For certain, he remained true to his promise, he did not tell even his own family. They were certainly a trustworthy bunch, but his siblings can be quite the chatterbox that they might suddenly let the cat out of the bag without meaning to. And Rush had made it clear that he is to tell no one, family or friend, stranger or acquaintance.

In a discreet manner, he opened the door leading to the room where Rush is in, closing it just as quickly while making sure not much noise would be made. He walked to the desk first, placing down a small tray filled with two loaves of bread, four slices of cheese, and a glass of water. Only then he went to the bed, intending to wake the boy up.

Whether Rush tends to sleep late or wake up early, he doesn't know, but he knows for a fact that whatever Rush intends to discuss with the Marquis is extremely urgent. Therefore the earlier, the better.

A hand reached out, giving the other a shake. But the shock from being woke up out of nowhere caused time to reach a standstill, with Rush remaining unaffected, obviously. Eyes open and body upright, he scanned his surroundings now bathed in green light, and Valeryan was right in front of him, completely frozen in place.

"Man... what the hell is happening? I was warned about this, but it's like a lot of things went wrong with me just from going back here..." Rush grumbled with a slight pout, a hand gripping the talisman hanging from his neck.

It was not only his powers; even his appearance underwent a few changes since he returned, causing him to appear a few years _younger_. Not too young and yet not mature enough. He couldn't find an explanation for this, even though _they_ were able to find one for the other problems he is currently dealing with.

But one at a time. Patience is something he would have to master.

With that, he focused his energy for time to resume itself. And Valeryan greeted him kindly as if he had noticed nothing out of the ordinary.

"Yup, good morning too." Rush replied with a light yawn, and the look in his eyes glowed with delight when he spotted the tray of food on the desk.

Valeryan quickly noticed it, particularly with the faint noise of a grumbling stomach. "I thought you'd be starving," he noted, bringing the tray and placing it right on the other's lap. Rush said thanks just as he immediately stuffed his mouth with it.

Such simple meals tasted like heaven to him, for it had been months since he last tasted any form of food. It didn't matter if he looked like a glutton in front of the innkeeper, in less than a minute, everything was consumed to the last crumb and drop.

"Wow..." A weak laugh came from Valeryan's lips. "I guess that was an _understatement_."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Rush muttered sheepishly, returning the emptied tray to Valeryan, who set it aside once again.

"Alright now, you said that you need to talk to Lord David. I shall be taking you to the palace now." he stated, all the while staring intently at Rush.

Only now he had noticed, as the shock of the latter being alive overrode every other question he would have, but shouldn't he appear a little... older? Around his age of nineteen, perhaps?

"Um, what's with that look?" Rush asked, his eyes slightly narrow out of confusion.

"Nothing, nothing. It's just still a lot to take in..." That question would be saved for later. Between Rush being alive and him looking younger, it's clear which is the more important issue. His appearance is something of note, certainly, yet not utterly significant. "So, shall we be going?" Any business in the inn would be taken care of later.

"Sure," Rush nodded, jumping off the bed and putting back on his cloak, which was hanging on the chair aligned with the desk. "But who'll take charge here?"

"Me and my family run this inn. The others will be watching over the place," Valeryan assured. "Shall we? The others are busy eating or washing, so now is the best time."

With an affirmative answer, both headed outside the inn. Virtus Parish may be the closest area to the palace, but it would still take a few minutes of walking. Valeryan was nervous, feeling all eyes would be on them, and Rush also held caution towards any passersby.

Lucky for them though, no one even seemed to notice. It felt quite jarring for Rush, since he would usually expect a person or two to suspect something just from the fact that he is hooded and cloaked, even if he caused no form of chaos so far. But no matter, the chaos may occur later, once David is informed of his return.

Alas, as if fate heard his thoughts, it fell to temptation and brought forth a different form of trouble, which everyone realized when the warning bell sounded, echoing across the city. Almost instantly, the people panicked, immediately running back to their homes, or as far from the city gates as possible, as that is where the danger would soon enter if left unchecked.

Yet both stood still, watching everyone else run, not daring to look back. That sound alone caused them all to act solely on their fear; there is even no choice of fight or flight. But the question is _why_?

"What's going on around here?" Rush wondered with a tense undertone, his fingers starting to _itch_ as Valeryan ran to the nearest guard, keeping his wits about him despite being as shaken up as every other civilian.

"A horde of monsters are heading here! And don't just stand there, you have to go back to your homes!" the guard responded, his voice loud with authority but also with concern.

Overhearing that answer, Rush tutted at the insanely horrible timing, and this danger that is currently threatening Athlum. What a fine day he woke up to, _definitely_. But hearing the news was enough for him to make a run for it, sprinting _towards_ the gates while evading the others, fearing he may bump into them.

He had no weapon with him, but he still had to see for himself. He wouldn't allow himself to be a helpless bystander in _any_ situation.

"Rush, wait!" Valeryan yelled, immediately running after the other once he saw him head for the gates. Yet Rush was too fast, and he had already disappeared into the crowd that was heading towards, or past where he was standing. "Rush!" he shouted once more, but it was no use; he was already too far and he was getting exhausted himself. How inconvenient it was that he is slightly frail, even though he was cursed with no illness. He called for a third time even though he knew it would be futile, and he soon tried to regain his breathing.

The guard whom he just inquired then ran to him, as Valeryan's cries did not completely fall on deaf ears. "Sir, did you just say 'Rush'? As in Rush Sykes?" he asked while assisting the brunette.

Now he had done it; he had broken his promise. But a part of him figured that at this moment, someone else would find out anyway. Not that it helped assuage the guilt he felt for being too careless, and yet now that he was heard, he cannot _lie_.

"...Yes. Rush Sykes, it's... it's him," Valeryan answered between labored breaths. "He... he's alive..."

* * *

Past the gates, past the grounds he is standing on, Rush was in _dreaded awe_ from what he saw.

Raptors, Wyverns, Vultures and Jhana alike have gathered, and were already steadily making their way towards the gates. Rush knew that this is a common occurrence for countries, when they would have to gather and make a stand against any horde of monsters that dared to invade and plunder, yet he only once he had seen one of this number before.

He could recall that fight long ago at the Yamarn Plains – history may as well be repeating itself.

There was one thing he was certain about, he cannot defeat all of them on his own. He remembered how the last fight had ended because of the Gae Bolg's use... yet that Remnant was no longer in Athlum's arsenal. And it had put them at a heavy disadvantage— how can they defeat this army? Even if they would be the victor, there would be no doubt that there would be several casualties, whereas it was only minimal the last time.

Part of him then understood once more just how Remnants were vital to mankind's existence. But that was in the past, and he must focus on the present, on what is happening at this very moment.

As the sound of marching feet rumbled in his ears, Rush turned to his left. All the Athlumian soldiers exited the gate, unsheathing their weapons, but they did not immediately charge ahead. They stood steadily and patiently.

A quiet gasp escaped him once he saw the Generals walk out with their weapons drawn. Each one unique to its wielder, but he knows their deadly proficiency with them in battle. Yet the sight that took him by surprise the most is when their leader – of the Generals and the army – head out to the front, with his rapier in hand and his buckler tied to his forearm.

While he was not far from them, no one noticed him as he concealed his presence once again. After all, they needed to focus fully towards the monsters, not towards him… particularly, his return. He knew they were outmatched, yet if he revealed himself at this moment, it would only be _detrimental_ to them.

He watched as without even a command from the young noble himself, they assembled into five groups. The young noble, along with his trusted Generals, were the leader of each, and every group arranged themselves into different battle formations. Now he recalled that each formation gave unique advantages in battle. He remembered that fact from the many adventures he had.

"Wait for my signal." David called out, and all obeyed as their feet pressed against the ground.

"No..." Rush whispered. He knew that he has to do something, he cannot let them fight on their own. Regardless of who would triumph, Rush feared the _body count_ that would come. But telling them to retreat and let Athlum be destroyed is not an option. There was something else about these beasts that he sensed, almost like pure evil taking physical form... something even worse than that. There was no better way to describe it, but now that he had noticed, he decided to see what exactly it was about them that bothered him.

As such, Rush breathed deeply and closed his eyes, ignoring all sights and noises around him. In that instant, he felt swathes of ominous energy, emanating from the monsters that began to stampede, building up their speed. The feeling made him shudder for a second, the same second he heard a wyvern roar. The Conqueror's power may be admittedly terrifying, but this was a whole new level of it. It was nothing like he had ever encountered before, not even with Hermeien.

This was it. This was what he was told of, why the others were troubled, why he had come back. None of them knew what it was, they cannot explain this malignant force that would soon unfold, but he can at least say that this army is only but a part of the bigger picture.

And almost as a reflexive response, he tried to attack first, or at least conjure a barrier, his hands extending to summon a mystic art. It may had been a long while, but he still remembers how to call forth the spells he had learned.

 _But_.

Even though he concentrated, nothing happened and he frowned with disbelief, staring at his palms. It felt almost like his powers were canceled. And to make sure once more, he tried chanting the same spell – and still, the results remained the same. He looked at his palms once more, which he soon balled into fists.

It was then he _knew_ , that they have _zero_ chances of them winning this battle. He couldn't let them fight. These were no ordinary beasts, and even if he did not know what they are, allowing the army to charge would be allowing them to meet their deaths. Redundant those thoughts may be, but danger would drive the same fact into one's head again and again.

" _Damn it, what's happening?! I can't use any mystic arts against them! What am I supposed to do?!_ " Despite how it would be a great disadvantage for him, and for them as well, Rush did not despair. He would _never_ despair.

"Now!" David yelled, and all began to charge, their swords and staves ready to strike. As their paces quickened, so did those of the monsters. The Raptors even began to lower their heads, their horns pointing directly at the army.

Rush almost panicked; knowing the battle is completely one-sided. The energy he had sensed may be doing more than just cancel out mystic arts – it might even weaken their physical strength. He may not be sure, but he cannot take any chances. He could yell at them to stop, but he was certain his voice would be drowned out. And besides, he was still using stealth magic. As far as they know, they could just be hearing their inner thoughts of fear.

Nonetheless, standing around won't do anything, so he tried to think of any other way he could help them engage the horde. And then it hit him, he still could use his ability to slow time. After all, he is still a Remnant, and he berated himself for not thinking that sooner. Therefore, he concentrated once again, letting his powers surface. When the light gray of his eyes turned into a glowing green, energy of the same color flowed out his body and he channeled it forth. His talisman started to illuminate as well, and right then and there, time slowed down. Everyone, ally and enemy alike, was one-fifth as fast as they were a moment ago.

No other second was wasted as Rush headed towards the horde, and he realized it was a foolish move since he still cannot cast any spell, along with holding no sword – but as if his thoughts were predicted, one immediately materialized in his empty grip. When he looked, it was none other than the Valeria Heart.

It was impossible not to grin in glee; he realized that he could summon any Remnant he wished. Now this fight will be easier than he ever expected.

It would only take but _one strike_.

He hastened the pace of his feet and ran past the soldiers. As time was almost put to a halt, no one could see him, let alone notice him. This was the perfect chance – as he was close enough, he raised up the sword and without any hesitation, thrust it deep into the ground, where a light tremor followed.

Light blue energy surged forth from the blade, accompanied by a strong gust of air that blew away the area around him, and not only by the width of a few feet. He concentrated more on the Valeria Heart, and time went back to normal; the stealth barrier around him also wore out.

Almost instantly, both sides stopped in their tracks from the overwhelming atmosphere caused by the destructive force of the Remnant blade.

From afar, the army could only see what was akin to Luminescence, much to their surprise… and confusion. Yet there was no time for them to question anything, as all of them were slightly blown back by the powerful wind swirling around and expanding like a hurricane. Strangely enough, through the scattering sand that partly obscured their vision, they saw the beasts disappearing one by one, fading away from existence.

It was too peculiar, it was almost as if a Remnant had intervened to save them. Yet that is impossible – all Remnants have already been—

When he looked more carefully, the Marquis saw that there was someone standing in the middle; it was most likely the source. As the soldiers struggle to retain their footing, David carefully pulls himself forward while ordering everyone else to stand back. This wind is certainly not a natural occurrence, and the same goes for the light enveloping the area. Yet he had to be sure if this is an illusion, even though he is nothing but perplexed.

But then, when there was enough distance for him to get a clear view, he gasped in disbelief. And disbelief could not cover it completely yet…

When the figure, one of a mitra no doubt, had the hood concealing their face blown back by the tempestuous winds, the noble could not completely comprehend what… or _who_ is in front of his eyes.

* * *

 **A/N:** Before anyone says anything, I am not committing plagiarism. I'm the same author of the original version (Our Bond), but I'm revamping it, because now that we're in the age where people are a lot more critical about writing, I have noticed _a lot of things_ wrong with how I first wrote the story. It had been a few years since I last paid attention to this work, but playing the game again gave me back my mojo to write, even if only slightly. Though it had been years since I wrote anything, so you have full permission to tell me if I did anything wrong.


End file.
